


Girlfriend

by experimentorium



Series: pearlina week 2k20! [3]
Category: Splatoon
Genre: Gen, YES I KNOW its for pearlina week im only a little stupid, cap be like snzzzz, pearlina if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:27:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24861547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/experimentorium/pseuds/experimentorium
Summary: Marina and Agent Eight haven't had the best time trying to connect. It seems as though the sixteen year old knows more about Marina's love life than Marina does...(for prompt 3: Deepsea Metro)
Relationships: Marina & Pearl (Splatoon), Marina/Pearl (Splatoon), pearl flirts stupidly
Series: pearlina week 2k20! [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1791904
Comments: 6
Kudos: 25





	Girlfriend

**Author's Note:**

> this is stupid lol

Agent Eight remembers her voice after she makes it to the first thang. Her memory is still spotty, at least from what Marina’s picked up in conversation, but her voice is clear and sure, a hard edge that contrasts her previously dotty disposition. She’s a different sort of creature, Marina realizes early on. Her instincts are strong, she can be quick on her feet if she needs to be; all attributes of a good octoling soldier. She’s observant but impulsive, she gets frustrated quickly; that’s just part of being a kid, Marina supposes. But she’s also insufferable, _unreasonable_ , to an extent that makes Marina reflect on just how much trouble she might've given Pearl when she was sixteen. She’s sure she hadn’t quite a strong grip on the concept of snark as Eight does now. Given, she’s not as learned in spoken Inklish as Marina had been, but she’s quick to bite at Marina’s heels in Octarian while she’s crouched on a ride rail, spinning a pair of dualie squelchers over her fingertips. 

Marina tries to bite back, but every response from Eight is the same: “ _Yes, commander_ ,” with a smirk. It’s blatantly mocking, and it makes Marina’s eye twitch. 

Inklish lessons have gotten progressively worse. The little octarian goes through strong moods in which she’ll leave her CQ off, completely cutting off their access to her. They technically still have Cuttlefish’s line, but Marina doesn’t exactly feel comfortable talking to the old squid. She leaves the shenanigans to Pearl; they have a better time, anyway. Eight seems to prefer Pearl and Cuttlefish’s company to hers, which upsets Marina in a way she can’t particularly place. She wants nothing more than to connect with her, to give her that strong euphoria that grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her hard once she realized she was free, but Eight wants none of it.

It’s the worst when Pearl isn’t there with her. As much as Marina appreciates how much more time they’ve spent together in the last month in communication with Cap and Eight, she acknowledges their work; their job still exists, and they still need rest. Sometimes that rest comes leaning on each other in microsleep during their fifteen-minute break between announcing the rotations, sometimes it comes sprawled over Marina’s bed with her laptop open to view the blueprints of whatever station Eight is working her way through. On those nights, Pearl often falls asleep trying to pry Marina from her screen, curled up with her head pillowed on her hand, breathing quietly and evenly. Sometimes on those nights Marina forgets to intercept those questionable comments the Cap often decides to let fly, the old blabberfish.

Pearl is generally good at showing her support, and other various modes of positivity, at high volumes. She can make Eight laugh trying to speak in broken Octarian (since Marina’s starting to teach her, too), she can coax her and the cap into conversation, she’s something of a mediator between Cuttlefish and Marina. Eight respects her. But when she’s gone, or asleep, for some reason the social barriers return and Marina flounders.

“How’re you feeling?” is all Marina can muster tonight. She can _feel_ Eight’s smirk, she knows Marina is struggling to make it work between them the way she wants it to.

“Just lovely.” Eight is sitting on the floor of the train car, looking through a rumpled old magazine. “How’re _you_ feeling?”

“Oh, well—” Marina’s cut off by a particularly loud snore from Cuttlefish, sprawled across the seat behind Eight, who snickers. “Do you want to get started where we left off last Inklish lesson?” 

“Not particularly,” she turns the page with a flourish. “Where’d you say Pearl was at, again?”

Pearl’s name sounds so lovely in Octarian, Marina thinks mindlessly. 

“She’s asleep,” Marina says flatly. To support her, a large crash (followed by a string of various cuss words) comes from the kitchen of her apartment; she winces. 

“Can I ask you a question?” Eight pipes up.

“Of course,” Marina wants to sigh, this seems to be genuine.

“Why do you bother talking to me? I mean, you must’ve seen my file from Grampa, you know where I was stationed. You think I’m a charity case or something?” 

“...Or something,” Marina bites out lowly. She _had_ seen Eight’s file. She knows Eight’s real name, she knows they removed her from the academy because they deemed her too dull to be an engineer and too young to be a soldier. She was transferred to a set-up crew, to work with brainless tentacles and other rejects. “Let’s not talk about this, okay? I understand being stuck down there isn’t fun, but once we can, _help_ _you_ get up here, you don’t have to worry about all that any more. It’s in the past.” Marina chooses her words carefully, so Eight won’t have much to snap at. 

Eight is silent.

“And what if I like it down here?” she poses the question simply, but it takes Marina aback. “What if, I don’t wanna see all the pretty flowers and sunshine that I’ve, by the way, already seen. What if I like this place better? At least it’s quieter, less barking higher-ups to treat me like my head is full of mud… which, y’know, did make it more fun to place those moving platforms where they weren’t supposed to go. Watching those kelp-heads fall into the water was priceless.”

“I do not _bark_ at you,” Marina tries to keep herself even. “ _Why would you even say…_ ”

“Oh, I didn’t mean you…” the smirk she’s trying poorly to hide directly contradicts this. 

_She’s just a kid_ , Marina breathes, _she’s just trying to mess with you_. When Pearl’s around, she tells her to laugh it off. 

“Well, I’m sorry if who I was before upsets you, or if you feel threatened by me, but I want you to know I’m not that person anymore. I… I don’t care what rank or sector or dome you came from, because you’re here now and I want to give you my help, in any way I can.”

“ _Go kiss your girlfriend_ ,” Eight mutters, and Marina stills. 

“My, what? What did you say to me?”

“Oh, don’t act like it’s not true, you make stupid eyes at her all the damn time, so quit bothering me with your stupid promises and go talk to someone who actually wants to hear your voice.” She looks directly into Marina, through her shoddy camera capture. Her yellow eyes are sulfurous, angry and molten. 

Marina’s hand clenches to a fist in the sheets beside her, and unclenches.

“Don’t talk to me about things you don’t understand,” is all she says, fuming. 

“Back at’cha,” Eight reaches for her CQ, and the capture on her laptop screen goes dark. 

Marina grabs a pillow and screams into it. 

“I can’t believe how disrespectful and vulgar she is! She’ll be all sweet one minute but when it’s just me suddenly it’s a free-for-all, a shoot at the Marina fest!” 

“Mm,” Pearl offers a grunt of support, lifting her glass of midnight pulpy orange juice as Marina walks angrily around the kitchen. 

“I mean, we’re bending over backwards to help her escape, and she thinks she can just brush us off with a ‘ _what if i want to stay?_ ’ I mean, why would you even begin to want to stay in that cesspool, it’s obviously a prison of some sort down there—”

“Don’t actual other people live there, Marina?” Pearl frowns. 

“That’s beside the point.” Marina waves her hand. “I just, I don’t—I’m giving her so much and she doesn’t show me any respect? I mean, we’re teaching her _Inklish_! Doesn’t this upset you?” Marina exhales heavily, gripping the back of a kitchen chair.

“Um, well…” Pearl avoids Marina’s gaze. “You _are_ kinda… I mean, you’re different people, Marina. Maybe you should just let her be for awhile.”

Marina blinks at her, jaw set. 

“No disrespect,” Pearl chuckles. “But you sound kind of strung up about whether or not an unhappy kid is listening to you.”

“Easy for you to say, all she does is pal around with you—” 

“Marina, she barely looked at either of us until like two weeks ago.”

“But she—” Marina leans in. “She called you my girlfriend.”

“As many before her have,” Pearl slides into an easy smile. “You know, we must be made for each other or something.” 

Marina can barely process whether or not that’s a joke before Pearl steps in again.

“Hey, maaaybe, you should be a little less control freak-y with the kid, she—”

“—I am _not_ a control freak—” 

“She’s in a tough place, she’s obviously upset, and you trying to grab her by the scruff of her neck might just not be the way to go…” Pearl pats the chair next to her. “Sit. I dunno much about… where you came from, but people have different personalities down there, right? S’not just Marina-town?”

Marina sits, arms crossed. “Yes, there are.”

“So… has it occurred to you, that, some octarians just aren’t like you? I mean, not everybody can be a stupid smart workaholic, you’re at a pretty unreachable level of insane, out of your mind.” 

Marina begins to relax. “Shut up.” She sighs. “You’re right… I suppose…”

“Of course I am,” Pearl nods. She takes a reflective sip of OJ. “Y’know, Eight reminds me a little of myself at her age.” 

“Really?” Marina snorts. 

“Oh, yeah, psh. I hated everything when I was younger. Most of my family, most people, school, myself. I even hated turf war, because I got all pissy when I lost a match. Given, I didn’t have any friends to play with. God, I was such a stupid kid. I don’t think Eight’s as stupid as I was. Trust me on that.”

“I’m sure you weren’t stupid, Pearlie,” Marina chuckles. She scoots her chair closer, and Pearl loops her arm through Marina’s.

“You know what I think?” 

“What?”

“I think she’ll be okay.” Pearl murmurs. “Just, I dunno...try to _learn_ her insteada’... _forcing_ on her. S’at make sense?” She smiles sleepily up at Marina, and Marina’s heart clenches.

“It… does.”

“Good!” Pearl abruptly detaches from Marina, sliding away from her chair and stretching. “‘Cos I gotta get the fuck to sleep, I’m tired as shit.” She walks backwards, towards the bathroom door. “Catch you in the morning, _girlfriend_ ,” she teases. “You better not stay up on that stupid laptop or I’m burning it and flushing the ashes.” The door falls into its frame with a whisper behind her. 

“Night,” Marina exhales. She leans on the table on her elbows, less tense than before. Was she trying too hard with Eight? She was so sure the octoling wanted that same sweetness of freedom that Marina herself experienced. 

_Go kiss your girlfriend_ ; the comment curls bitterly in Marina’s gut. _Kiss my girlfriend, we’re not even dating_. Even if Marina has given it some thought, Marina knows Pearl’s an experienced kisser, but—no, that’s too weird. Pearl’s her best friend, she doesn’t want to change that. She doesn’t want to lose that.

She takes Pearl’s empty orange juice glass to the sink before it can make a ring on the table. In the bathroom, Pearl’s humming _Ebb and Flow_ over the whirring of her electric toothbrush. Marina smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> Let's see Marina: unhinged huh??? 
> 
> ... also be nice to eight, she does eventually come around..


End file.
